


Eggshells

by Burdenedwithgloriousporpoise



Series: Marlowe Fics [9]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Character Study, Drabble, Frustration, Gen, Internal Monologue, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-09-30 22:55:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10174277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burdenedwithgloriousporpoise/pseuds/Burdenedwithgloriousporpoise
Summary: Lose your temper, lose your fight.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Marlowe's a passionate firecracker of a character, but is also very capable of reason and self-examination. I wanted to explore the aftermath of what might happen if he lost his temper during a debate.

He lay in bed, staring at the dark space of the bunk above.

It happened so quickly. Or rather happened over a long period of time, building over days, accumulating over weeks, predicated by months; it was the explosion itself that took only a few seconds. How much had been him, how much had been lack of sleep, low blood sugar, general irritability? 

Exhortations too late, like stinging darts: 

_A fool gives full vent to his spirit, but a wise man quietly holds it back._

_The vexation of a fool is known at once, but the prudent ignores an insult._

_Whoever is slow to anger is better than the mighty, and he who rules his spirit than he who takes a city._

Blankets rustled slightly as he he laid back and put his hands over his face, tangled them in his hair. 

What a fool he must have sounded. All that he stood for--with one outburst he'd maimed his example and stripped the respect from his name and his cause.  
If only it wasn't just him. If only he--stupid, big-mouthed, firecracker he--wasn't the only reference they had for the cause he held so dear. If only his idiot self wasn't the only one trying to demonstrate that what he said was right.

His hands slid back and fingers laced behind his head. Exhale.

His arguments were a tangled mess that fell to pieces when he needed them. His reasoning felt woefully dull, flat and removed from reality, petty and naive. And yet he had studied! In his time alone, piecing together the answers that were airtight in the absence of opposition. Perhaps that abundance of information was a killing factor. How do you tell someone they're wrong when each stage of why-that's-so is predicated on another further removed one? Where should he even have begun? What was the focal point of his argument? If only he could've further prepared in advance, he could've held it. If only he'd been well rested, he might not have lost it. If only, if only, if only; a thousand factors but not a single excuse.

_Lose your temper--lose your respect--lose your supporters--lose your fight._

So much time, so much trust built and gone. So many of their stereotypes canonized. So many of their disparaging thoughts affirmed. 

Hands slid down the back of his neck and came to rest on his chest.

All because that once, that critical once, he'd lost his temper.

It wasn't fair that he should have to tread eggshells like this. How could such a precious thing be so fragile? How could it break at such a feather-touch? One outburst, one boiling-over of months of frustration, and everything he'd built lay shattered. 

But he'd known it would be thus before he'd even begun. He had no choice but to get up and walk across the shards.

He forced himself to disengage taut muscles, relax back into the mattress. He hadn't realized how stiff he was.

Life went on, and with it came chances to rebuild. Not immediately...maybe not for a while. But neither was it over. As long as he was alive, there was hope. With another sigh he closed his eyes and tried to sleep.


End file.
